


Propositions

by Alys_Brauer, TAFKAB



Series: Chasing Stars [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Growing Up Together, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Starts out without sex; will include explicit sex later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 20:36:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8028082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alys_Brauer/pseuds/Alys_Brauer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAFKAB/pseuds/TAFKAB
Summary: When Amanda Grayson's personal physician decides to retire, she and Sarek journey to Earth to choose a new one.David McCoy doesn't think he's interested in working on Vulcan, but the offer is just too good to refuse.  He uproots his wife and son from their beloved home in Georgia and resettles them in Sarek's ancestral compound on Vulcan.Leonard McCoy, aged 14 (nearly fifteen, dammit), couldn't possibly be more miserable among the stuffy, stuck-up citizens of Vulcan.  Given his new companion's penchant for inciting unexpected chaos, neither could Spock....





	Propositions

_Chasing Stars moodboard by Alys_Brauer_

STARDATE: 2245.0409.1247.37

David McCoy came up against the block booking slot in his schedule with a surprised thump, like a light aircraft encountering an unexpected microburst and thudding down to the ground while still traveling at full speed.

He gazed uncertainly around the shambles of his morning, strewn helter-skelter through his office at Emory; the exam rooms might be spotless but he’d dug through at least thirteen of his prized medical books (real, acid-free paper) seeking various trivia during the day, and half his lunch was uneaten on a tray on his desk-- or rather, the vaguely desk-shaped pile of flimsiplast and medical gear, abandoned scrubs, etc. that he’d let pile up as he struggled to keep up with the life of an emergency physician in downtown Atlanta.

“Cindy,” he toggled his comm. “That client who wanted an interview-- meet him on his way in and take him to the Whitehead Memorial Room, if it’s open. Entertain him till I can get there.” As he spoke a pile of things cascaded off one edge of his desk, and he winced. “And if you can’t meet him before he gets here, turn him around and take him back.”

He didn’t know why he’d let Max talk him into the interview at all. He didn’t want a private sector job, not even a nice cushy one. But Leonard was going to have to go to school one of these days, and if David was going to send him to private school, doing pro bono pediatric work wasn’t going to help much with that. 

He put on a clean lab coat and hustled down the long, echoing hall, sidestepping a couple pushing an elderly patient in a wheelchair, and ran his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. 

When he arrived, Cindy was fussing over a sedate, dignified couple, showing them the elaborate woodcarvings and discussing their history. 

The male glanced up, and David stepped forward in alarm at seeing such a sallow complexion-- until he took in the man’s austere features, tilted brows, and pointed ears. He drew a deep breath and straightened his coat. A Vulcan. What the hell did a Vulcan want a human physician for?

“Hello. I’m David McCoy.” He couldn’t remember the polite way to greet this particular xeno variant, so he stood still, hoping the man would give him a cue.

“Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan.” The ambassador lifted his hand, making a V with two fingers on either side. “Live long and prosper, Dr. McCoy.”

David tried, failed, and arranged his fingers with the other hand. “Live long and prosper, Ambassador.” He flushed. “I hope that’s the correct response. If it isn’t, I apologize. And I’m sorry, I fear I’m making a dreadful first impression, but not all humans can make that gesture so easily.”

“It is no matter.” Sarek let it pass. “Dr. McCoy, this is my wife, Amanda.” He extended two fingers, and an aristocratic woman of early middle age stepped forward, to touch her own to them. She smiled warmly at McCoy, a sharp contrast to Sarek’s flat neutrality. 

“A pleasure to meet you.” She was as human as McCoy himself; he hid his surprise at the term _wife._ A human with a Vulcan? His mind whirred; he’d heard rumors of this union years ago. It had been the first, and maybe still was the only, one of its kind. “Charmed.” He didn’t quite dare go for the gallant finger kiss, not with her xeno husband who might take offense standing right there looking on. 

She offered her hand, though, so he went ahead, and she gave him a soft laugh. “A real southern gentleman, Sarek, just as Max told us.” 

Ohhh, he was going to have _words_ with Max.

“I’m afraid you have the advantage over me, then,” he smiled. “Max told me nothing but the time for our meeting.” He noticed Cindy hovering, and waved a cordial hand toward her in dismissal. “Cindy cleared my afternoon for our interview. Would you like to accompany me down to the hospital cafeteria? The coffee isn’t too bad, and there are vegetarian options if you’d like a bite of lunch.”

“We’d love to.” Amanda smiled.

David almost raised a brow-- if he remembered right, Vulcans were supposed to be unemotional. He could hardly imagine this stuffy, upright specimen agreeing he’d love any such thing. 

“All right. Please come this way.” He led them out, chattering cordially with Amanda; the ambassador remained silent, listening keenly. He didn’t seem very personable for an ambassador, but it was a bad idea to make snap judgments, especially with a xeno. 

“Max says you’re a family man, David. May I call you David?”

“Of course.” It was probably a good thing he didn’t want this job; most men didn’t approve of their wives and a new hire getting along like a house on fire. “I have a wife, Eleanora, and my son, Leonard. He’s due to turn fifteen this summer, and he’s growing like a weed.” 

“We have a son as well. He was born nearly sixteen Earth years ago, if my calculations are correct.” Amanda smiled again; she seemed sunny without self-consciousness. She must be damned strong-willed to have kept her happy personality after such a long time with her dour husband. “For all those years, doctor, I’ve been served on Vulcan by a human physician. However, Dr. Bradley has reached her sixtieth year, and would like to retire and return to Earth to be closer to her children and grandchildren. She recommended Max as a reference source for potential replacement physicians.”

“Really?” David sparked with intrigue in spite of himself. “How many have you interviewed?”

“In addition to yourself, we’re interviewing three others. However, I’ll admit you’re my favorite candidate, doctor. I like your _curriculum vitae,_ and I especially like that you have a son roughly the same age as Spock. My son.” She smiled. “They could become companions for one another.” 

Later, David McCoy would swear that the ground shook under his feet at that precise moment, and the foundations of both Earth and Vulcan shuddered hard enough to make dust sift down and statues teeter on their bases.

This, of course, was patently illogical. But perhaps it was equally significant that no one ever heard Sarek of Vulcan dissent to the outrageous claim.

**Author's Note:**

>  **BIRTHDATES**  
>  Yes, Spock’s and Leonard’s birthdates are altered in this story. Leonard is the younger by one year, instead of older by three.
> 
>  **STARDATES**  
>  For the purpose of allowing our primarily Terran readers to understand and relate to the story timeline, Stardates given in this story use the Gregorian calendar and military time represented in the following format: YYYY.MMDD.HHMM.SS (However, it should be noted that Vulcan seasons will not correspond to earth seasons.) As the story may not always be presented in linear order, these dates should be useful in determining the actual order of events.
> 
>  **CURRENCY**  
>  Some will argue that canon specifies currency is no longer being used on Earth by the Star Trek era. We posit, for the purposes of this AU story, that when you are fully contained within the Starfleet system, money isn’t used/necessary-- much like when you’re working for a business that has a company store, cafeteria, and dormitory, your employment by the company enables you to take what you require for survival as part of the recompense for your work. 
> 
> Possibly some public sector corporations heavily involved in Starfleet business would be cooperative in this arrangement… but some others, and many private businesses, might not be. 
> 
> Therefore obtaining luxuries (such as getting a non-scholarship education at a non-Starfleet/non-public learning institution) might require actual credits. The Federation government would guarantee a roof over your head, an education, clothing, basic amenities, and enough to eat, but civilians and even those who worked for Starfleet would probably need money to purchase luxuries above and beyond “human rights” amenities. Starfleet almost surely provides for its enlisted personnel to accrue a certain amount of credits per year to use in luxury purchases.
> 
> Admittedly, I’m no economist, so this setup is probably fundamentally flawed in ways I don’t realize. But surely the idea that nobody on Earth wants recompense for anything anymore is even less probable…? I mean, “we abandoned currency for self-actualization” is a noble idea, but SOMEBODY has to unblock the damn plumbing. Are you gonna stand there and tell me there are plenty of humans out there who feel they’re self-actualizing by snaking toilets, working at sewage treatment plants, fabricating toilet paper, washing dishes, mopping floors, etc. all day every day for a lifetime? Or that everybody has to take a turn, and so every year or two Kirk takes a month off to go run a laser roto rooter?
> 
> ...Or are "lesser races" doing that stuff while humans wander around preaching how great it is nobody uses money anymore? It doesn’t look like there are lots of robots wandering around taking care of menial tasks the way there are in the Star Wars-iverse; if humans are off self-actualizing, then that leaves other beings. So if they have mugatos or something handling the all the crap jobs, then where the hell is Starfleet’s moral superiority?
> 
> Nope. Money makes the world go ‘round.


End file.
